


Where I Find Your Face

by Morgana



Series: Where You Are [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean really loves his little brother's dirty mind sometimes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where I Find Your Face

Dean wasn't surprised to find an email from Sam when he checked his inbox, but when he saw that there was a video file attached, he had to wonder what the hell Sam was doing. Sending him porn, when he knew very well that Dean had plenty of it? But he had to admit that the note made it sound promising, so he downloaded the clip and put it on the desktop, where he could access it easily when he wasn't in the middle of the public library. Besides, he still had to figure out what had killed Loretta Halvorson.

Four hours later, he wasn't much closer to an answer on the case, so he packed it up for the night and headed back to his motel. He ordered pizza and turned on the TV while he waited for it to get there. For some reason he ended up watching PBS, some documentary shit about monarch butterflies that Sam would've gone nuts over. Dean wondered if he should've let him pick the shows more often, if that would've - but he'd promised himself he wasn't going there anymore. Thankfully, the knock on the door as the food arrived distracted him and kept him from sinking down into the despair that threatened too often these days. He paid for his dinner and settled down on the bed to eat, only half-watching the show that was still playing.

He finished eating and was about to head for the shower and call it a day when he remembered the video file Sam had sent. Just the thought of his little brother digging up porn for him was enough to get Dean half-hard already, so he booted the laptop back up, made himself comfortable on the bed, and clicked play. And instantly went hard enough to hurt, because there was Sam - a very naked, very _bare_ Sam, idly stroking himself, working his dick hard with slow strokes that made Dean's mouth water just watching.

"Jesus Christ, Sammy," he muttered, fumbling with his fly as Sam's dick got fully hard on screen and he started massaging his balls with his other hand. "Warn a guy next time." And when the hell had Sam started _shaving_ , of all things? Damned if it didn't make him look even better, though - Dean wanted to lick every last inch of the gorgeous body that was stretched out on his screen. He had to settled for dragging his tongue up his palm before he reached in to grab his aching dick instead.

How many times had he done this, jacked off while his brother stroked for him like his own personal porn show? He had no clue, but knew that however many it was, it wasn't nearly enough. Sam was feeling himself up, hands running up and down his body, one hand always curled around his dick, like he was trying to recreate the way Deans hands on him felt. He was squirming around and - oh, fuck, he pulled his legs up and was rubbing over his hole. "Fuck," Dean whispered, watching him rub around it. Was he going to finger himself for Dean, fuck himself with his fingers for the camera? "C'mon, Sammy, do it," he urged, but he lowered his legs and kept jerking off instead.

But the way he was moving said it all, the little thrusts of his hips as he started working his dick with both hands again, the squirming he couldn't fully control, the deep moans that told Dean he was hungry for it, aching for a cock inside him - for Dean's cock inside him, fucking him hard. He kept pulling his leg up, too, offering Dean teasing glimpses of where his dick was practically screaming out to be, and then both legs up again, letting Dean see his hole, so small and bare that it _needed_ a tongue inside it right the fuck now.

"Fucking slut, Sam," he groaned, thinking of the filthy smile he'd have received in reply. In the clip, Sam was panting heavily, legs shoved up as he jerked himself, spread out for Dean like a fucking buffet. And God, Dean wanted a taste! More than just a taste, actually - he wanted to suck Sam off, lick him clean after and open him up with his tongue, then fuck into that hungry little hole until he begged for more and -

"Fuck, Sammy," Dean moaned as his brother's breath took on those little shudders that said he was close. One hand disappeared and Sam's moans were muffled, but Dean only moaned louder because he knew what that meant. Sam was sucking on his fingers, sucking them off like they were the dick he needed in his mouth, and Dean's hand sped up in rhythm with Sam's as he started jerking himself fast and hard, his voice breaking on a moan.

Any second now he expected to see Sam come, and he was doing his best to hold off and go with him, but instead he slowed down, going back to those long strokes that said he was prolonging it, and Dean knew he should too, but then Sam started fingering his hole again and there was no way Dean was stopping now. "Yeah," he panted, eyes transfixed on the image on Sam on the screen. "Fuck, yeah, Sammy. God, wanna fuck you so bad, need it - ungh, yeah, fuck yeah!"

He was coming, shooting over his fingers into his jeans, and he knew he'd regret that later when he had to do laundry, but Sam had always loved watching him get hot enough to come in his pants, and Dean had frankly been too caught off-guard and wound up to bother with doing anything besides jerking off to the video. He kept stroking himself, gently working his dick as he watched Sam getting even more frantic, his voice rising to such a sweet breaking sound before spurts of come sprayed all over his stomach.

Dean wanted to lick them up, wanted to trace every last muscle there with his tongue and get Sam ready for round two, because his dick was certainly starting to get there, but fifteen hundred goddamned miles lay between them, not to mention the job he was on at the moment. He had to settle for staring at his brother's hot body and wriggling out of his jeans, then clicking play to restart the video.

One thing was for sure, though: if he wasn't absolutely raw by tomorrow, he was going to have to come up with a way to let Sammy know how much he'd appreciated the video.


End file.
